


No more dreaming (in love with the wrong world)

by shayzgirl



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) RPF
Genre: Angst, Bottom Michael, Emotions, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Prompt Fill, Top James
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-18 07:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayzgirl/pseuds/shayzgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James knew what he wanted, hadn't known what Michael had wanted, had taken what he thought he'd get. But he still wants and wonders if Michael does, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No more dreaming (in love with the wrong world)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this [this](http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/806.html?thread=314150#t314150) prompt from [1stclass-kink](http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/)  
> James and Michael work on the Charles/Erik dynamic by going off-script and improvising. There's massive UST between them from the start but neither dare to act on it. As their personal relationship deepens, they push each other harder and harder professionally until a point where the improv gets super fucking intense and they end up having sex in-character. The new secret backstory they're living out for their characters really helps their performances and they keep coming back to each other, but it's always through Charles and Erik. Then filming ends.  
> Written for the [McFassy](http://mcfassy.livejournal.com/) Tuesday Creative Chat.

Filming was done and James should have been happy, should have been ready to shake off Charles Xavier and head off to his next job. But he couldn't. Not yet. Normally, he could and would, so easily but this film, this time, it was complicated and confusing. Michael made him confused. Or perhaps it was Erik. James wasn't quite sure which it was. He didn't think he ever really had known, had no way of knowing. He liked Michael, was attracted to him and wanted him, but despite months of fucking and being fucked by the other man, he'd never truly been with Michael. He'd never truly been James during those nights. Not his skin against Michael's, not his name on Michael's lips, nor Michael's name on his. No, always Charles and Erik those nights. Not James and Michael. Never them.

James took another drink of his beer, the bottle nearly empty and leaned his head back against the couch, staring up at the dull white ceiling of his hotel room. He knew two doors down from his room was Michael's room and he wondered if Michael was sitting in his hotel room just as confused as he was. Or perhaps Michael'd already left, forgotten Erik, forgotten Charles and James, gone on. It was possible he had. He'd never once given any indication that he wanted more than what they'd had. No, it was James who wanted more, wanted Michael as himself, wanted more than late night fucks and waking up alone.

James sighed, closing his eyes. Poetic in a way, Charles wanting more and Erik just leaving him, broken both physically and emotionally on a beach. James thought he'd prefer the beach over the dim hotel room, reminders of what he’d had, and what he'd never have. Wondered if that's how Charles felt, returning to the mansion, maybe grateful that his damaged body forced him to move rooms, away from fresh reminders of what once was.

James took a deep breathe, sitting up and shaking his head.

"Fucking idiot," he muttered, not sure if he was insulting Charles or himself or both.

He finished his beer and dropped the bottle to the carpeted floor. Contemplated packing his bag and leaving, not wanting to stay any longer, not wanting to wake up the next morning to find that Michael had already left. He could be the one to leave, to walk away and leave everything behind. Maybe it would be easier not being there anymore, with fresh reminders cutting into his skin.

He stood up, ready to head towards his room, begin packing his things when there was a hard knock at his door. He stopped, staring at it, not daring to hope, had to be a mistake, someone with the wrong room number.

"James," came Michael's voice from the other side, "Don't be gone yet."

James nearly tripped over the empty beer bottle on his way to door, yanking it open and almost hitting himself with it.

"Michael," he said.

Michael opened his mouth, as though to say something, his eyes staring at James as though he couldn't quite believe James was still there. James understood the feeling.

"What do you want, Michael?" James asked, the silence and Michael staring starting to unnerve him.

"To see you."

"Well, you've seen me, if that's it, I need to pack."

"Pack? Are you leaving?"

"Yes. No reason to stay. Film's done."

"But..."

"But what? Did Matthew say something?"

"No."

"Then what, Michael?"

Instead of answering him, Michael kissed him. It took James a minute to realise it and when he did, he shoved Michael away.

"What the fuck?"

"I thought..."

James waited, tired of the back and forth and wanting Michael to just say whatever it was he was failing to say.

"What about us?" Michael asked.

"There is no us. There's never has been an us."

"But... all those nights."

"That wasn't us, Michael. That was them. It's only ever been them. I don't want them anymore."

"Do you want us?"

"I thought I did. I don't know anymore."

James scrubbed a hand over his face and motioned for Michael to come into his hotel room properly, closing the door behind him and walking back over to the couch.

"I did, want us, until you showed up at my door. You fucking confuse me, Michael."

"You confuse me, too."

"Really? Because you're the one who kissed me and called me Charles. Who fucked me until I came moaning Erik. You're the one who started this."

"I thought it was what you wanted, you wouldn't fucking shut up about them, about their dynamic, about Charles' fucking feelings for Erik."

"Well, it's not what I wanted. You could have asked what I, James, wanted. And I would have told you that I wanted you, Michael, not Erik."

"Then why didn't you stop it?"

"Because I thought it was all I was going to get. That if I wanted you, I had to take Erik."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me, too."

James sighed, leaning back against the couch again. Silence stretched between them for several minutes.

"I did want you, James. You, not Charles. You and I are a lot alike. We embrace and became our characters and maybe I misinterpreted your commitment. I'm sorry."

James nodded, unsure of what to say. Michael was right, they were committed and maybe he'd been a bit too committed this time, to Charles, because he wanted to do it right, to do it justice, to make his Charles different and yet the same to Patrick Stewart's, show that his Charles could one day be that Charles, too.

"I do still want you, James."

James nodded again. He sat up, shifting to look at Michael and really see him. It was Michael sitting on the couch next to him. Not Erik. Only Michael.

"I still want you, too. But I'm scared."

"Why?"

"What if... what if we can never shake them?"

"I don't think we'll ever really be able to, we're here because of them. I don't regret being Erik, for the film at least, because it brought me here to you. I wanted to be in this film because of you. I'm sorry I screwed up the rest. I should have asked what you wanted. So, I will this time. What do you want, James?"

James thought a moment, thought about what he really did want, what he had wanted before all of this, about the things he'd been lamenting he would never have before Michael had shown up at his door.

"I want you, I would like to try being us, without them. Different from them."

"We're not them, James. But if it'll help, we can do things differently. Date instead of jumping into bed, if you'd like."

"I like the idea of dating. But let's not rule out the rest yet. We were compatible in bed together as them. Might be even better as us."

"Probably."

James smiled, the hurt and the doubt from before starting to fade.

"May I kiss you?" Michael asked.

"Yes."

Michael kissed him and he kissed Michael back. And it was them kissing, James and Michael, kissing for the first time, properly.

"I think I like kissing you, James," Michael said, smiling at him.

"You think?"

"Well, I might need to do it more to be sure."

"Fine by me."

"James."

"Michael."

They both smiled then and James kissed him again because he wanted to and because he had to. Michael was there with him, wanted him, wanted him to be himself.

"James," Michael said, as James kissed down his jaw.

"Hmm."

"Are you still leaving?"

James pulled back and shook his head.

"No, not tonight at least."

"But you were going to?"

"I thought I needed to."

Michael nodded.

"But I don't now."

"Do you want to, though? Or more... would you like to leave, with me? We could go stay somewhere else. Somewhere they haven't been."

"Would you like to?"

"A little bit, yes."

"Then yes."

"I need to pack. How about we meet in the lobby in... half an hour?"

"Okay."

Michael smiled. They stood and walked over to the door, where they kissed again before Michael headed back to his room. James grabbed his suitcase and began gathering his things, more stuffing them into it than really packing properly. Not even half an hour later, he'd packed everything, double checking to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Once that was done, he pulled on his coat, grabbed his suitcase, and began heading towards the lobby. Michael was already standing at the elevator.

"Impatient," James teased.

"You're one to talk."

James smiled, leaning up to kiss Michael real quick before they entered the elevator. It didn't take long for both of them to check out and head outside to grab a cab.

"Where are we going?" James asked.

"I have an idea. If you'll trust me."

"Okay. Surprise me."

Michael smiled and a cab soon pulled up. He gave an address to the drive, one James didn't recognise, but he was trusting Michael, wanted to trust him. While the cab took them to their new destination, Michael leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"Tonight is whatever you want, James."

"Whatever I want?"

Michael nodded.

James thought about what he wanted. He knew what Michael was offering. A new start. A do over. This was for them to be together with nothing and no one else. Just them.

The cab soon pulled up in front of a grand hotel. Michael paid the fare and led James inside. The hotel inside was architecturally glorious and James thought he knew why Michael had picked it.

"So, what do you want?" Michael asked.

"A room would be nice, unless you intend for us to sleep in the lobby."

"Of course not."

"I want a room for us, because whatever else happens tonight, I want to wake up with you in the morning."

"Okay. Wait here."

James did as he was told, waiting with their luggage while Michael purchased them a room. Michael didn’t say anything about it, only led James to the elevator, where he hit the button for the top floor.

"What sort of room did you get us?"

"It's a surprise."

James smiled. He was trusting Michael.

There room was down at the end of the hall and Michael let James open the door.

"Oh good, I thought maybe you'd gotten some ridiculous honeymoon suite or something," James said, entering the room.

"No, I picked the room for the view," Michael replied, walking over to the window.

James followed him and looked out, the city stretched out below them for miles.

"It's beautiful."

Michael nodded.

"You said whatever I want," James said, still looking out the window.

"Yes."

"Kiss me. Please."

James turned to face Michael, who was watching him as though wanting to make sure it was really what James wanted and that he hadn't just said it.

"I did say please."

Michael nodded and kissed him, gentle at first as though still unsure. James deepened it, showing Michael that he'd meant it, pulled Michael close until he was between only the window and Michael.

"The bed," James said, looking at Michael with all the honesty he could.

"James."

"You said whatever I wanted."

"I thought we weren't just jumping into bed this time?"

"We're not. This is different. This is us."

"And it's not just a fuck."

James nodded, slowly reaching over to hold Michael's hand. He moved first, leading Michael over to the bed and sat down. He kissed Michael again, pulling him down onto the bed with him.

"I want you to be naked on this bed by the time I come back."

He stood up and walked out of the bedroom area, back over to their bags where they'd left them near the door. After retrieving the lube out of his bag, he leaned against the back of the couch and gave himself a couple of minutes. He did want this, but he also needed it. Needed to know that they could be themselves, even with this.

When he walked back into the bedroom, Michael had done as he'd asked.

"I know you said, whatever I wanted, but I can't do this if you don't want it, too."

"I want this. Want you, James."

James kissed him again and began stripping off his own clothes. Once naked himself, he joined Michael on the bed and began kissing him again. For several minutes, that was all they did.

"James," Michael said, arching up against James.

"Patience. I thought you liked kissing me."

"I do, very much like kissing you, but I was hoping for something more."

"Then be patient."

Michael lay back on the bed while James grabbed the bottle of lube.

"I would very much like to top, unless that's not something you'd want."

"I'd very much like that."

James smiled and kissed Michael again. He kissed his lips, his jaw, his neck, his chest, anywhere he could reach, while he opened Michael up slowly, gently, and a little bit teasingly.

"James," Michael moaned, quivering beneath him.

"Shh."

He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, kissing Michael as he slowly thrust into him.

"Okay?" James asked, fully in Michael.

"Yes, now move."

James chuckled but began moving, thrusting into Michael. They soon fell into rhythm, Michael moving into each of James' thrusts.

When Michael reached for his own cock, James held his wrists above his head.

"No, like this. I want you to come like this," he said.

Michael nodded. James kept a hold of Michael's wrists as he continued to thrust into him. Michael didn’t protest or try to free himself. It was new for them, they'd never done that before and it added to how it was truly them together.

As his own orgasm neared, he thrust into Michael harder, wanting to make Michael come first.

"James, I'm..."

"Come for me, Michael."

That was all it took, watching Michael come apart for him that had James coming, too.

Afterwards, they curled together on the bed, James holding Michael.

"You'll still be here, in the morning?" he asked, kissing the top of Michael's head.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Michael replied, placing a kiss on James' collarbone.

"Good."

"Anything else you want tonight?"

"Just you."

"I'm already yours, James."

James smiled, holding Michael closer. He couldn’t be sure in a night if they’d ever be able to shake Charles and Erik, but he knew even if they couldn’t, it wouldn’t matter. They could be them, James and Michael, and they’d be okay. More than okay. And that was all James truly wanted.


End file.
